


The Hawk, the Fox and the Hound

by Whrain



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I'm sorry guys usually I like the guy but not in this nightmare I created, Laurence deserves better, M/M, Mating Bond, Mental Abuse, Napoleon is a major asshole and deserves far worse than he gets, Non Consensual, Omegaverse, Physical Abuse, Rape, a/b/o dynamics, endgame Laurence/Tharkay, explicit - Freeform, forced Laurence/Napoleon, forced mating, non-con, spoilers up to tongue of serpents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25128073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whrain/pseuds/Whrain
Summary: Delivering the cure to France had always been a gamble, and while Laurence had assumed to be punished for his traitorous act he had not been expecting this.With his true designation revealed to the emperor of France and the most influential Alpha of the modern world taking a quite obsessive liking to him his life quickly turns into living hell.-Meanwhile at the other end of the Channel Tenzing Tharkay is awaiting his return only to realize that rumours, as well as dreadful news, carry swift on dragon wings.
Relationships: John Granby & William Laurence, Napoleon Bonaparte/William Laurence, William Laurence & Temeraire, William Laurence/Tenzing Tharkay
Comments: 19
Kudos: 38





	1. I know how this turns out, don't end well

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!  
> This is not a happy fic or at the very least not much of it. It centres around a sensitive topic and is not meant to glorify the act but rather portray the damage it does and the healing process that follows.  
> I promise it will get a somewhat happy ending eventually but for now its mostly indulging for everyone who enjoys heavy angst, a lot of hurt and comfort and a certain portion of whump.

It hurt, it hurt really bad. The pain coursing through his lower body was almost enough to make him drop to his knees. But Laurence straightened, clenching his teeth against the pain. All he wanted was to curl around his coat and for once, he was actually willing to do so in the grand bed the emperor had provided him with, propriety and honour be damned. If the priests called heats the symbol of an Omega’s weakness, he was going to embrace it as an excuse to spend these next few days swaddled in blankets.

Unfortunately, the emperor of France had deemed this a wonderful day for a stroll through the gardens and since this was Laurence’s first opportunity to speak with Napoleon since Prussia, he could’ve hardly turned down the invite.

So here he was, leaning against Temeraire’s foreleg, trying to find solace in the dragon’s company. 

Temeraire was eagerly pointing out interesting pieces of architecture and grandiose flower arrangements. In the end, his observations came down to anything he hoped might lighten Laurence’s mood and engage him in a conversation. 

Instead, Laurence’s eyes were drawn to the grand balcony doors he had been led through, nearly an hour ago, which left him wondering what Bonaparte was thinking. 

Considering that by now the whole of Versailles ought to be aware that Laurence was in pre-heat, Laurence was tempted to suspect the emperor kept him waiting on purpose. Probably under the assumption, Laurence would be easily swayed once his designation got the better of him. But then again, Napoleon had only treated him with kindness, even though Laurence had been fundamental to ruining more than one of the conqueror’s designs. The reason Napoleon was content with letting him wait was far easier and hence far more vexing. Napoleon was either busy or of the opinion that Laurence would appreciate to share a private moment with Temeraire, to whom he, so far only had access to, accompanied by a handful of guards. And since France provided their Omegas with some medicine to ease the pain, the emperor was, supposedly, of the opinion that Laurence had had the opportunity to do the same.

Laurence thought of his brief captivity in Jena, the hostility they experienced from the Prussian aviators, not only for being a sad excuse for the promised reinforcements but also for Laurence’s deceit. 

And while he could not blame the Prussians for being bitter about him bluntly lying to their faces, he had little to no doubt what would have happened to him, if Napoleon had not insisted on meeting the captured dragon captains and Laurence had found himself crammed into a small cell with three Prussian officers during his heat. 

Napoleon had ordered his men to prepare a room, had given Laurence plentiful opportunity to nest and even offered to grant him the attention of his partner, apparently assuming that Britain did manage their Omega captains similar to the French.

The emperor had been appalled to learn that no one knew about Laurence’s condition. They had spent a whole dinner following Laurence’s recovery, appalling each other with their false assumptions.

Laurence still felt bile rising in his throat, recalling that France accepted Omegas among their military ranks. That there were even Omega navy captains and admirals. Many of the high ranking functionaries of Napoleon’s court, were Omegas. And had been allowed to pursue a career, without being required to spare their bodies the strain so they may give birth to some Alpha’s offspring.

Laurence couldn’t remember a time where he had not been hiding what he was. And while Granby and per default, the whole of Temeraire’s crew had figured him out, courtesy of the unfortunate circumstances during their pursuit of Lien, he did not dare to imagine what an outrage his reveal would cause in polite society.

Not that it mattered anymore. He could feel the darkness descend upon him and while he was used to it, as he was used to the pain of his pre-heat, his depressed mood was only worsened by his body’s conditions. He felt a pang of jealousy for Betas , who could experience these feelings without having them multiplied by their designation.

“Laurence? Are you feeling well? Are you in pain again? I’m sorry I didn’t think of bringing some suppressants”, Temeraire asked, Laurence watched as his talons scraped anxiously against the flagstones of the courtyard.

It said a lot about his state, when Temeraire thought suppressants would come in handy. The dragon had an understandable dislike towards them, after all, they did make Laurence sick, for an even longer period of time than when experiencing his heat. But other than the cramps and the urges, he could control a little nausea and dizziness, could mostly pretend they weren't even there.

What had happened in Istanbul had been inconvenient, and if he had any reason to believe that it would help to calm Temeraire, he would have told him that he had experienced worse backlash from the suppressants before. But he was quite convinced that, had he told Temeraire at the time, the dragon might have destroyed the small stack of suppressants Tharkay had managed to acquire for him in secret.

Tharkay. Laurence’s heart ached alongside his body, thinking about the man. He had written to Roland, had explained the situation as he owed to her, but he hadn’t managed to sketch a letter to Tharkay. There was nothing to say but what had already been said in the night before Tharkay left for Nepal and he and Temeraire boarded the Alliance to cure the dragon plague.

“I’m well enough, my dear. I will retreat once we have spoken to the emperor, pray do not fret. It should be over in a few days and then we shall return home.”

Home. It was odd that his voice managed to sound cheerful upon the notion of returning to a place where only the gallows were waiting for him. He couldn't find any regret within him, but neither could he deny, that part of him wished, he could excuse running away, if only for Temeraire’s sake. He wasn’t even sure if Temeraire was aware of what was about to happen to him.

When Laurence thighs started to become sore alongside his aching stomach and back, the doors to the Tuilleries were pushed open and Napoleon descended down the brilliantly white marble stairs, alone, with an expression of joy on his face, as if he was about to declare they would go on a jolly flight. Laurence usually would have frowned at such odd behaviour, but got distracted by his heart, which started to beat frantically, when his nose picked up the jubilant note in the Alpha’s scent. All too familiar from Napoleon’s victory in Jena.

Napoleon placed his hands-on Laurence’s shoulders kissing him on either cheek, Laurence’s skin prickling beneath the gentle touch, and the emperor’s soothing voice resonated within his chest.

He wanted to lean forward and let the man hold him, he wanted to run, wanted to fight. By god how weak he was, how depended on his urges. It took him too long to take a step back and bow, mumbling a proper greeting, his stomach cramped once again, and Laurence wondered why he bothered to right himself. As his lower body contracted as if to force him, to throw up onto the emperor’s boots. His discomfort wasn’t lessened when he watched Napoleon’s nostrils flare. His pupils widening when he caught the distinctive note in Laurence’s sent. 

Laurence had not entertained any thoughts of being able to hide what was happening. But he had hoped that the emperor might at least have the decency to ignore it.

Which clearly would not be the case. Laurence’s nose picked up Napoleon’s scent, clearly released in an attempt to calm him. He tried to pay it no mind, but he could feel his body reacting and the disgust choking his throat made his own scent turn even more anxious.

“Your Majesty, pray … cease your attempts to appeal to my lesser nature.”

“Your lesser nature? My dear Laurence, what despicable things this country of yours must have made you believe. Though I find that I owe you an apology, I can’t comprehend why my servants have neglected you in such a manner and missed to offer some form of relieve. I shall see you properly equipped in a trice. If you would prefer to retreat, I shall postpone our conversation till you have recovered, though I was looking forward to it.”

Laurence considered the possibility. His rooms, solitude and even a mild suppressant were appealing offers. Even if the first were improperly pompous, and the latter still required him to suffer through the heat. But another thought struck him, the possibility of seeing Tharkay a last time.

He ought to have returned to England by now, and if Laurence managed to return without making a fuss, he could…. 

He could what?

Demand from Tharkay to share his heat? 

Did he really expect the man to offer any form of comfort to a traitor?

Whatever bond they had shared before Laurence made the decision to carry the cure to France, he had torn it apart as soon as he had agreed to accompany Temeraire.

“I am used to it, your Majesty”, he lied, resulting in a condescending smile from Napoleon before he turned to explain to Temeraire that Lien had extended an invite for tea.

Their distraction allowed Laurence to suffer relatively unobserved. A dizzy feeling became increasingly insistent on making itself known, prompting him to support more of his weight against Temeraire, who luckily was too occupied to notice. The cramping seemed determined to drag him down as well and he wondered how long Temeraire could stall the emperor, and if it would suffice as an excuse to sit down.

Laurence’s attention was briefly attracted by the intelligence that Lien had apparently suffered from the plague as well, but then his mind was mainly occupied, again with keeping him on his feet.

It was a relief when they started to walk, while Napoleon pondered about his designs and inquired after Laurence’s opinion. Laurence must have made some response, though he could not recall what his response had been and Napoleon’s cheerfulness slowly turned into worry the farther they got into the gardens.

The emperor dared to inquire after Laurence awkward shuffling, by asking whether he had been hurt during his brief captivity at the channel. But Laurence had no doubt that the Alpha was fully aware about what was unfolding before his eyes. Laurence’s eyes, looking for an answer, fell upon a fountain ahead of them,a feeling of relief spread through his chest. He would ask Napoleon for a brief pause, pride be damned. He felt so hot, and his hand was pressed against his stomach even though he had attempted to clasp them behind his back.

Only a few more steps. Napoleon asked something. Laurence shook his head. As an answer? Or was it an attempt to clear it? Everything suddenly became fuzzy and his vision blurred as if he was about to cry. His knees buckled. The cobblestones raced towards him. Then blackness. He felt something warm and solid behind his back. Arms wrapped around his chest and hot breath on his neck.

The next thing he knew for sure was that he was splayed out on his bed and a hand rested on his forehead, another, oddly enough, was squeezing his hand.

He lifted his head, turning slightly to see who was sitting beside the bed. There was a sharply cut face with steel-blue eyes, now coming into focus, searching his face for some sign of recognition.

“He’s awake”, Napoleon’s voice boomed, a general expecting his unspoken orders to be obeyed.

“Captain? Captain Laurence, can you hear me?”

Laurence turned towards the voice, finding an elderly man in a physician’s attire standing at the other side of the bed.

“Do you always experience such intense pain in pre-heat?”, he inquired.

The question was blunt enough to render Laurence speechless for a moment. He shot a horrified look at Napoleon, but the emperor appeared as interested in the answer as his physician.

“I… Usually I take suppressants for a few months and when I need to experience my heat, I take them less and less until the day my heat is due. But after delivering the cure I had no opportunity to wean my body from them, so I suppose that’s the reason why the symptoms are this…”

“Severe”, the physician, proposed sounding appalled at what Laurence had described.

“Captain, I have to ask. You are aware of the damage suppressants can do to your body?”

“I am.”

“Truly? Not only the pain but also the bleeding? Infertility?”

“I am aware”, Laurence ground out, feeling Napoleon’s grip tighten on his hand. Why was he holding it? Why did Laurence allow him to?

“Would you mind me checking on your condition? As far as I can tell there was no bleeding, but I would feel more comfortable prescribing you something to … assist you through your impending heat if I knew for sure.”

Laurence found himself dumbfounded once more, looking at the man with obvious horror. He had never allowed anyone to check on his  _ condition.  _ A big part of his life had been hiding his  _ condition  _ from family and friends and now this man expected him to agree to an examination with the French emperor in attendance.

"I can leave", Napoleon offered, as if Laurence would have wanted him to stay and with some confusion, Laurence realized that he had been clutching Napoleon's hand in return. He had even shuffled towards him and away from the physician as if he expected the Alpha to protect him. He pulled back his hand trying to sit up enough to provide the Frenchmen with a less pitiful picture.

“You have my gratitude for bringing me here, your Majesty. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“There is nothing to apologize for, my dear Laurence. I shall check on you in the morning. I know you in good hands. Monsieur Corvisart.”

“Your Majesty”, the physician performed a smart bow, turning back to Laurence and declaring before Napoleon was even through the door, “Captain, this examination will require you to take your clothes off.”

Laurence attempted to protest, only to be reminded that, Corvisart would be unable to do anything to lessen the pain without an examination. And while Laurence would, under normal circumstances not doubt his ability to handle his heat on his own, he found himself smothered by the darkness and he had heard too many stories about Omegas experiencing similar mood swings to just ignore the fact that he had collapsed into the arms of the French emperor.

Which did not mean lying naked on a foreign bed under the eyes of a French physician was less of a terrifying experience. Especially when Corvisart took hold of his ankle and pushed his legs apart.

Laurence was sitting upright in a second, barely managing to stop his fist from breaking the man's nose. If the physician had even noticed Laurence's movement, he didn't show it, instead, he was fixated at whatever he hoped or feared to see between Laurence's legs. 

Shudders began running up and down his spine when he felt fingers moving along the inside of his thigh.

“Sir would you be so kind as to inform me about what you are doing.”

“Did I startle you? My apologies. There Majestys are quite used to these procedures, though I suppose Alpha’s and especially women are a little less startled by such an examination.”

There was a growl rising in Laurence’s throat, turning into a startled yelp when Corvisart’s fingers touched his sex.

“Sir”, he managed frozen in place.

“You are already lubricating. I suppose your cycle ought to be rather irregular, considering your usual approach. I would advise you to take a partner for this impending heat. Though I cannot make out any damages and would declare, due to the smell of your slick, that your fertility hasn’t suffered from the maltreatment so far, I can say with some certainty that your heat won’t be pleasant and without administration through a partner most likely painful”, Laurence watched mortified as the physician brought his fingers to his nose, nostrils flaring as he examined the scent of Laurence’s slick.

“I can prescribe you painkillers of course, but those won’t reassure that you will eat or even get to drink during your heat. I am sure I would be able to find someone to support you.”

The words prompted Laurence to draw his legs towards him, while reaching for the blanket to cover himself.

If Corvisart found his reaction odd in any way he did not show it.

"I will pass it on to His Majesty. He has voiced a keen interest in your health and should be capable of introducing you to a fitting partner. Do not hesitate to call upon me if your current state worsens before your heat kicks in.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Laurence watched as the door closed, drawing his knees against his chest, he noticed that he was shivering. It had felt so wrong,he wanted to hide from all eyes until this feeling of wrongness had vanished, but another part longed for a friendly touch.

A hand on his shoulder, a pat on the back, anything that did not make him feel like a thing to be used. He closed his eyes, nausea gathering in his stomach, and got to his feet, walking towards the water basin. He was determined to scrub the memory of the physician’s touch from his skin.

When he was done, the feeling still lingered, and even though his skin was a bright red, he still felt cold fingers between his legs and a detached voice declaring that he ought to invite someone to his bed, when the only person he had ever trusted to stay with him through his heat, was probably in this very moment cursing his name.

* * *

The door creaked open and Laurence could only assume it was morning due to the rays of sun, touching his pillow right next to his cheek. He didn’t move, too afraid that the slightest alteration of his current position would allow the cramps to return in full force.

He had spent the night rolling around in the pompous bed, shuffling blankets and pillows around to find some position that would allow him to, at least, close his eyes without fear of fainting.

By now he would have welcomed that possibility.

"Good God, why didn't you send for Corvisart.”

He ought to move, the emperor of France was in his room, but he just couldn’t.

“Your Majesty, I fear I am in no position to entertain you properly.”

Please just leave.

Laurence was a mess. Skin covered in sweat. Hair tousled and clinging to his forehead. He knew the sheets to be stained, somewhere among them his coat and stockings. Probably his waistcoat, ensuring wherever he was still wearing it would have required moving the one blanket he clung to as if it was a lifeline thrown to him in a storm. 

“Damn my entertainment, you are in pain.”

Laurence hadn’t been able to smell anything but his own sweat and the sickening sweet scent his body was omitting to attract a partner. Now there was a new scent, of wine and horses and old parchment, a scent telling Laurence of worry, pity and a reluctant hope that wasn’t befitting of this situation.

“Your Majesty, please stop… this is improper.”

“How so? It’s no less than what soldiers are doing to soothe their comrades.”

“Not… not in my country.”

“Ah yes your country”, the bed shifted, Laurence heart started racing, “Merry England who has been willing to condemn thousands upon thousands of innocent beasts to a slow and painful death. The same country who has reduced Omegas just as yourself to nothing but breeding stock. Tell me do you really think you are worth so little? And if so, how did you justify your joining of the Navy to yourself.”

“Your Majesty…”

“You may call me Napoleon.”

Which left Laurence with nothing else to say but, “Then you may refer to me with my Christian name as well.”

The words were received with a content hum, but Laurence found himself too occupied with curling around himself to consider how close to his ear it had been. He could feel the heat radiating from Napoleon's body and the worry apparent in the emperor's scent became unmistakable.

“If that is the case may I ask you a personal question? Do you have a partner, a mate perhaps who could be persuaded to come here and ease your pain? I am certain my men could find him or her and bring them here in a few days.”

Laurence doubted that a few days would do him any good. He was quite convinced that he was already going into heat and he wanted the emperor to be gone before the pain was replaced by something even more unbecoming.

But the offer struck him to his core, and for one moment he allowed himself to entertain the notion of asking for Tharkay. He ought to be in England by now, probably even in Dover. For a single heartbeat Laurence thought he could smell the leather, dust, and wet earth he had come to associate with Tharkay. It almost seemed like the memory alone might be enough to ease some of the pain.

But then he felt Napoleon shift behind his back and realized that Tharkay would refuse the request extended through a foreign agent. And it was highly possible that even the attempt would make Tharkay appear guilty in the eyes of the admiralty. After all, once Laurence’s designation was revealed, and it would be revealed, since there were without question, English spies among the very people serving his foot, every male and especially every Alpha among Laurence’s acquaintance would be dragged before a court-martial.

He wouldn’t force such a fate on Tharkay, he couldn’t.

“No”, he whispered, “There is no one I would burden with my current state.”

A hand came to rest on his stomach, long fingers tenderly circling his abdomen as if to soothe the pain exploding beneath fabric and skin.

“Your Majesty…”

“Will”, the name resonated throughout Laurence’s chest, “I think I told you to call me Napoleon”

“Napoleon”, he tried again and there was something oddly intimate in using that name, something that combined with the Alpha’s scent and his touch sated the thing in Laurence that was determined to inflict pain upon him. 

“Please stop. This isn’t…”

“Proper? But it is, my lovely William. More so because your country tried to starve you of this. Of the simple pleasure of knowing that someone will support you in such moments. They made you believe this comfort to be a luxury when in truth you should be entitled to it. As every Omega should. There is nothing shameful in these moments and it is a ghastly thing that monarchs have used their power to make you and yours believe it to be”, he felt the emperor’s nimble fingers undoing buttons, apparently he was wearing his waistcoat after all. He tried to raise a hand, but instead of being allowed to push the emperor’s away he found their fingers entangled.

“And while you haven’t hesitated to deliver the cure and your life into my hands you now expect me to watch you suffer? I am here because I won’t stand for France’s hero being subjected to pain without even an attempt on a remedy. I am here because France owes you the comfort you have been denied for such a long time.”

Laurence found himself pulled around, to lie on his back, Napoleon towering above him, his eyes alight with determination as if he had set out to lay siege and conquer. His scent filled with the hard notes of an Alpha responding to Laurence's heat.

His body grew cold upon realizing what the emperor offered, and what answer he expected.

Napoleon’s hand caressed Laurence’s cheek, the other still resting on his stomach, it was a possessive gesture, making Laurence wonder wherever what he saw was even an offer.

“And as I am the greatest of France, her master and protector. I have decided that only I will suffice to grant you this comfort in her name. That every other partner would be an insult to what you have done to safe her.”

Laurence was choking on Napoleon’s scent. His body frozen in place once the emperor’s hands started to move, to tear on his clothing, exposing skin.

“Please stop”, he tried to move away, tried to voice another objection when Napoleon’s lips grazed his, tongue slipping past the barrier of his clenched teeth, adding taste to the scent overpowering Laurence’s senses.

He could feel his own hands shoving against Napoleon's chest, his legs kicking out but after a few fruitless attempts, he was successfully pinned beneath the Alpha, naked skin meeting the fabric of Napoleon's clothing and a nauseous thought flickering through Laurence's mind.

_ Not close enough _ . 

He felt a whine, rising in his throat, not of pain but desperation. Napoleon withdrew, lips trailing along Laurence’s chin and throat, down to his chest.

“Stop.”

“Shht, mon cher. You are no longer in pain, are you?”

The realization felt like a blade thrust through his gut. No, he was no longer in pain and the damp sheets beneath him left no doubt to what alternative his body had been drawn.

There was the sound of leather scraping metal, Napoleon unbuckling his trousers, hips swaying above Laurence’s own, the nails of the emperor’s second hand digging into Laurence’s shoulders.

Laurence watched in horror trying to crawl back, not only bumping his head on the headboard but also feeling his inner thigh brushing against the Alpha’s knee, which had been thrust between his legs.

Another whine resounding through his throat and Laurence felt his heart skip a beat once his ears picked up on the undertone. The animalistic need resonating in his chest.

“Soon, ma poule. Oh so very soon”

“Please”, he wasn’t even sure anymore what he was begging for, his head going fuzzy. He watched as Napoleon’s trousers became undone as a hand slipped between his legs. Felt the fingers at his entrance, felt them slip in and being withdrawn accompanied by a wet sound.

“Ah you are already being so good for me”, the emperor drawled, delight and disgust filling Laurence to the brim, resulting in a sob. He averted his gaze, attempting to hide his face in the cushions, he wouldn’t let Napoleon see his shame. Wouldn’t admit to such a pathetic defeat.

Napoleon’s hand grasped Laurence’s chin, forcing his head around. Laurence looked towards the ceiling, but he could feel Napoleon kneeling between his legs, steely eyes drinking in the sight before him.

A guttural growl escaping the Alpha as he took hold of Laurence wrists pinning them above his head.

"God, you are beautiful. My dear William, say the word and I will please you. I will make all this pain appear to be a faraway memory. Nothing but a nightmare. Give me this and you can rest assured that I will let no harm come to you or yours. For they will be ours. Give me this and you may never suffer your pain alone."

Laurence glared at him, willing his eyes to express the words his tongue could no longer form. Napoleon was perfectly still above him, content with allowing his eyes to roam all what he already considered his.

“Say that you want me.”

He tried to close his eyes, tried to tune out Napoleon's voice and ignore the heavy scent filling his nostrils till he thought it to be the only thing left in the world. But hot breath grazed his throat, teeth nibbling on his cheek before the emperor purred into his ear, "Say it, Will, say it and I will make the pain go away."

And as if conjured by those words another cramp struck his body, forcing his legs to tighten around Napoleon's hips and his own to rise in an attempt to move into a position that would soothe the pain long enough for the cramp to pass. Instead, skin met skin and Laurence's body responded to the sensation in the one way it knew it could, by forcing another whine from him, making him whimper beneath Napoleon's bulk until the sound had driven the Alpha mad enough to forsake his sick game and thrust into the body rubbing against him.

Laurence felt his head slump back onto the pillows his back arching and his toes curling. There was a brilliant spark of pain before it faded to an unrivalled pleasure that made him want to vomit, to lash out and bury a length of steel in someone.

It was not pain but by god did it hurt. Not that his body cared. Laurence felt oddly detached, as if watching his own hips meeting Napoleon’s thrusts, as if the blood oozing from a scratch on his shoulder wasn’t his own. He felt like trash thrown aside because his body had gotten what it wanted. It had never been like this with Tharkay. He had been insecure then yes, he had been ashamed of the pleasure he had felt, but having Tharkay inside him, taking his pleasure while seeking to grant Laurence his own, hadn’t been humiliating. When he was with Tharkay he didn’t feel used, didn’t feel like all the things people would say about him if they knew about his designation where true.

Now? Now he felt like what the church made Omegas out to be. Useless creatures too weak to refuse their betters.

And still, his body responded in the same way as it had done in Istanbul, as it had done in the night before he and Temeraire boarded the  _ Allegiance _ . As if there was no difference between Napoleon and Tharkay, as if it didn't make all the difference in the world.

He did not want to be here. He did not want this, but that did not matter. Because he moaned whenever Napoleon's thrusts hit him in just the right angle, and he whimpered when teeth brushed his throat, his neck, his jawline.

Something inside of him marvelled at the endearments Napoleon groaned at him. Telling him how good he felt, how good he was being for him, how beautiful he was. Because all Laurence’s tortured, and tired mind could think of was his Alpha praising him. Laurence had done well. And if his Alpha said so then there was no need to feel guilty about bringing the cure to France, about betraying everything and everyone he held dear. If Napoleon just said he did well then he could relax and…

Something was tearing open his backside and horror flooded his body as he realized that it was Napoleon’s knot forming. Movement returned into his limbs, but he was too weak, he barely managed to push himself onto his elbows before a hand closed around his throat forcing him to turn to the side, facing the windows, the Tuileries beauty sprawled out beyond them.

He felt Napoleon’s chest pressed against his own, lips grazing his neck, movement becoming erratic while the discomfort in his backside increased.

“No”, he managed, “Stop please, please. I don’t want to I…”

A sharp pang of pain in his neck. Laurence went limp, he felt heat filling him from the inside, Napoleon moaning his name while his teeth where still sunk in the exposed flesh of Laurence’s neck.

No… he hadn’t. He wouldn’t… Napoleon couldn’t.

Suddenly all Laurence could see was the deck of the Shorewise, the pitch-black hair of a boy Barstow held by the neck, throwing him to the feet of one of the convicts they had taken on as hired hands. The boy was whimpering, the scent of raspberries and tulips radiating from him mingled with a tone Laurence knew too well. A note Laurence had been covering by rubbing a potion acquired in the back alleys of London onto his skin. He hadn't known, if he had known he would have offered to help, would have advised the boy to flee the ship before Barstow found out. As things were, he could only watch as the boy was dragged below deck, only to resurface three days later, tears streaking his bruised face, neck covered in bite marks one of them slowly turning into scales marking the boy as the convict's mate. He had inquired after him once he made post. Had found him in a small hut, with four children clinging to his trousers. Face covered in bruises,  _ mate  _ sleeping on the small cot, reeking of cheap alcohol. Laurence had looked him in the eye and found nothing, no hope no desires. It was as if the cheerful boy he remembered from previous years had never existed.

When he came to, he felt wet heat dripping onto his thighs, and Napoleon still connected to him through his knot.

He couldn’t get pregnant not with the lingering effects of the suppressants, but that was small consultation. 

He did not dare move, but when Napoleon started to caress the mark, he couldn’t hold back the sobs suddenly shaking his body. Tears streaked his cheeks and while there was no pain, he felt hollow, as if something had been taken from him.

It was odd, all the Omega’s he had ever dared to ask had claimed that receiving their mating bond had completed them in a way, even though they hadn’t been aware that something was missing. Though all these Omegas had mated with their spouses, during their wedding night and with the intent of bearing their Alpha’s children.

This wasn’t comparable in any way, and Laurence felt trapped, felt like Napoleon had ripped out part of his heart. Left him only with an ache to regain something he knew to be lost forever.

"Why", he whispered. He did not expect an answer. When Napoleon gently kissed the mark before running his hand through Laurence’s hair as if to soothe him, he found that his body was still responding to the Alpha's touch. Still longing for his approval.

The next sob shook Laurence’s whole body.

“Why? Why did you do this to me? I told you to stop. I was begging you to stop.”

"Oh my, dear William", there was a sad undertone in the emperor's voice, but no regret and his scent reeked of satisfaction.

"Can't you see what I have done for you? By claiming you, by making you mine, I have given you everything you need to hold me to my promises. I won't let any harm come to your or Temeraire"

A possessive hand came to rest on Laurence stomach, emphasising the emperor's intent far more than his words did. 

"I will protect you and yours. Grant you a life worth living. I want you to be at my side. Be to France what you could no be to England. Be for me what you have denied yourself for such a long time."

“Why?”

"Why? Because since we met in Jena, your eyes have been haunting my dreams. Because I could not forget your voice, could not banish your scent. And certainly, I was unable to ignore the pain I sensed in you. Such a beautiful thing and you would have me watch you break? No, mon cher. I was not to be an idle bystander to your downfall. So I made a decision and decided that if fate was to pull you away from me. I would claim you as my destiny. For who would dare to separate a man from his mate?"


	2. Searching for a way home, but running down the wrong road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tharkay is stuck back in England. He doesn't know what's going on but he's pretty sure it's nothing good.

Tharkay had known something was off the very night before he and Laurence had parted. And if he hadn’t been so distracted, so fully enthralled by Laurence, he might have voiced his objections. Might have insisted on staying in England and, furthermore, accompanying Laurence to Africa.

It wasn’t hard to imagine Laurence's reaction to such a proposal. The man infuriatingly insistent on duty and honour as if anyone besides him could give two shits about it.

Hell, when Laurence returned, the whole of England would cry for his blood. The men Laurence associated with his duty would see him hang for treason.

_ It was treason _ and Tharkay had not a single doubt that Laurence was well aware of the punishment waiting for him. And he had even less doubt that Laurence would return, believing that, even though he had done the right thing, being put down like a rabid dog was what he deserved.

Tharkay looked towards the horizon, the sky slowly turning red as dawn settled on the thirteenth day of being on the lookout for a black shadow crossing the channel. Beneath him, ships of the line swayed in the breeze stirring the water. The harbour near Dover covert allowed for a splendid view across the vastness of the grand body of water separating Britain from the continent. He could barely see the stretch of land on the horizon.

What a lovely metaphor for the abyss Tharkay felt in his chest, Temeraire would have appreciated it, while Laurence would have most likely resorted to a fond smile and a content shake of his head.

Tharkay looked towards the ships beneath his vantage point, down the rocky cliffside, ignoring the busy movements of the harbour, where no one ever seemed to sleep. If Laurence were here, he would amuse himself by pointing at the small Snow next to a truly terrifying frigate and ask him her name. Laurence would most likely respond with her name, her Captain and one or two stories he knew about her. Tharkay would keep on pointing out ships till Laurence either did not know anything about his current target or Temeraire declared himself bored.

“It’s getting late”, Granby announced, causing Tharkay to turn towards him. Granby had been walking the full length of a prone Iskierka in an attempt to give Tharkay at least the illusion of privacy. Well meant but futile considering that the Kazilik made a habit of announcing her boredom in regular intervals. 

Since Laurence and Temeraire had vanished to France every Captain that had served with Laurence had been called in for questioning by the admiralty, most of those closely acquainted with Laurence had been grounded, which left Tharkay with not many options to get from the covert to the cliffs, except walking for three hours or cutting it down to two by buying a horse.

So far no one had demanded Tharkay for questioning and the only reason Granby and Iskierka were allowed to roam the countryside was that Granby had spent the months during Laurence's adventures in Africa in the covert nursing the hellion of a Kazilik into fighting weight. 

After two days of questioning by the admiralty Granby had been cleared for service, and since then clung to Tharkay like a boy to his mother’s skirt. And while Granby tried to appear merely bored by the lack of conflict the French currently offered, Tharkay knew that Granby had set himself on guard duty. Thinking that Tharkay might do something stupid once Laurence returned.

“You say he has been away for three weeks now?”

“Tenzing, with all due respect, but as far as I am concerned you already know the exact hour, date and temperature of the day he and Temeraire decided that heroics are preferable to a beating heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if you also knew the name of the last cow Temeraire had Gong Su stew for him. Maybe Laurence was smart enough to accept whatever offer Napoleon must have made him. Or more likely Temeraire could sway him to ask for a ship that will carry them to China”, Granby tried to sound cheerful, but Tharkay did not have to turn around to know that Laurence’s former first Lieutenant was frowning.

They both knew that not even Temeraire could talk Laurence out of facing punishment. Them committing treason to keep thousands of dragons from dying, did not come as a surprise. But Laurence choosing to stay in France, was next to impossible. But as far as the English couriers could tell, their feral friends in France still spoke of a big black dragon sleeping in the emperor’s courtyard.

“Let’s head back.”

The short flight passed in silence, neither of them willing to voice the conclusion they had drawn a few nights ago. A conclusion that became more and more likely with every passing hour.

What if Napoleon was unwilling to let Laurence leave?

Granby had found a few convincing arguments why Napoleon might prefer to hinder Laurence's return. It would eliminate the threat Temeraire posed to his ships, especially now that England was in possession of a firebreather. Additionally, captain and dragon had proven themselves quite the nuisance to Napoleon's plans and keeping them close not only allowed Napoleon to operate more freely but also the slim chance of convincing them to join his cause.

Even Napoleon Bonaparte must have come to the conclusion that this was not a task achieved by threats and or bribery, so most likely he was treating Laurence and Temeraire like honoured guests, attempting to rally one or the other to his cause.

Which under normal circumstances might have been reason enough for Tharkay to relax and start planning his own trip to France. If it wasn’t for Jena.

Neither Tharkay nor Granby had forgotten the way Napoleon kept looking at Laurence during their captivity. Certainly, the emperor had extended all the courtesy due to an honourably defeated foe, had even taken measures to make sure Laurence could spend his heat in relative peace. But it was what came afterwards that made Tharkay dread whatever might be happening beyond the channel.

Tharkay had watched as Napoleon accompanied Laurence to his brief visits to Temeraire. Had seen the eyes resting on Laurence as if measuring the worth of a cavalry mount. It was said that the emperor of France had a keen interest in gray horses, entertaining his own personal stable and Tharkay had rightfully had felt like Napoleon had discovered a desirable addition in Laurence.

The lights of the covert flickered beneath them and he parted from Granby as soon as Iskierka touched the ground, ignoring the Captain’s offer of a parting glass in the officer’s hall.

Tharkay had taken a liking to Granby, as he had to most of Laurence’s crew, but that did not mean that he was particularly keen on his company. And he was certainly sick of listening to the other aviators speculating which Captain of Lily’s formation had been screwing Laurence.

Corps policy demanded that all Omegas in his Majesty’s service required a mate serving on their dragon. He knew that Sutton fell under this category and while the captain was outspoken and accepted among his fellow officers, Tharkay knew the same wouldn’t have been true for Laurence, even if he had been mated.

Most of the aviators were still of the opinion that Laurence had seized an opportunity by harnessing Temeraire and while many agreed that he knew how to manage a dragon in battle, Laurence’s odd handling of Temeraire, and the fact that Lily’s formation had opted to a similar treatment of their beasts, hadn’t exactly endeared Laurence to the more traditional parties of the corps and certainly not to the admiralty.

Laurence’s designation having been discovered did not help at all. He swallowed a low growl at the knowledge that someone Laurence had trusted, had told those old men, already holding a court-martial in Laurene’s absence, that their friend was an Omega.

Tharkay had been there when the news spread throughout the corps, had heard the whispers and had remembered why his mother had despised this country. Why she had called herself lucky for finding herself in his father’s protection even though so many of their family had been sneering at her.

With this simple revelation, Laurence had turned from an oddity in the corps, who had never learned the proper way of handling a dragon, to an Omega who lacked both the training and the backbone to be a dragon captain. That Temeraire’s disobedience, therefore, came as no surprise. None of them seemed to remember that before Laurence had joined the corps, he had had a successful career in the Navy and to his surprise, he had not heard a single one of Laurence former Navy acquaintances lose a bad word about his designation.

Sure, he had heard them snarl at him being a traitor, but none of them had even brushed the topic that one of the most successful captains of his majesty’s navy had been an Omega. Most likely that would send the wrong message. Since so far, the admiralty tried to shift the tides enough so they may execute Laurence but keep Temeraire in service under the pretence the dragon had been handled the wrong way. Nevermind the fact that there were Omega captains in the corps who were completely ignored in their reasoning.

A socialist lawyer would have had a blast to defend Laurence in this case if it wasn’t for the undeniable treason, and while Tharkay found the thought entertaining he only cared about two things: Getting his hands on Laurence, chaining him to Temeraire’s harness and make the dragon fly away as far as possible and finding out whoever had dared to bare Laurence’s secret to this cruel country, which had turned on a big part of its population like vultures on dead flesh.

So far Tharkay had ruled out Granby, most of the Captain’s of the formation and a greater part of Temeraire’s former crew. As far as Laurence was to be believed no one from his time in the Navy knew, a thought that made Tharkay shudder. He had been alone most of his life, but he hadn’t been hiding part of his nature while living among men who frequented brothels filled with desperate Omegas, many of those men Alpha’s, who viewed their mates as their property.

He had seen the toll this kind of life had taken on Laurence. Smelled it in the fear tinting his scent that first night in Istanbul and felt it in every tense muscle, while Laurence had been lying in his arms.

This had not been a secret Laurence had ever meant to share with anyone but his loved ones. Tharkay knew the reasons the crew had been aware of it, knew that most of them wouldn’t even think about telling anyone but there was one person Laurence had considered close and Tharkay deemed dangerous. Admiral Roland.

He could see why Laurence would like her, admire her even but what Laurence was keen to forget was that most people foremost cared about themselves. Tharkay had read the letter Laurence had left for her and while nothing in it even hinted on any other relationship between the two than friendship, the existence of the letter was enough for the admiralty to speculate and even excuse Roland’s discharge if she became a problem in their eyes.

It was an easy way to blackmail her into compliance and as long as everyone still believed Laurence to be a Beta no one had a reason to question their rumoured relationship. If it were known that Laurence was an Omega though, things became a little more complicated. With Roland herself being an Alpha, corps policy would have demanded her reporting him, if she had known and while most in the corps would have probably been outraged but not surprised at such a relationship, the admiralty and most of England would assume that if there was a relationship between a female Alpha and a male Omega, Roland ought to have been mated to Laurence.

Decency demanded and so decency was the shield Roland could hide behind because even as a woman in a country that despised her gender, she had more worth in polite society’s eyes than a male Omega.

He had no evidence to support this theory and Granby had been outraged when he had tried to hint on it but that did not mean much. Tharkay was rarely wrong, though he was willing to admit that his opinion on Roland might have personal motivation. He had found that whenever the month came to an end, he was wary of every Alpha Laurence had been around. And while he knew that his mind had linked this period of time with Laurence’s heat this was an entirely new sensation he did not welcome.

He already liked Laurence too much for their own good, growling at everyone of his own designation just because Laurence would technically be vulnerable to them, would not benefit their current situation. 

After all even Laurence wouldn’t appreciate it, not even if they were mated. 

Looking up he realized that his legs had carried him to the door of his room, and he shuddered upon realizing that he had walked here lost in thought. All his survival instincts were screaming at him for letting his guard down. But he was too tired to appreciate their warnings. Instead, he turned the door handle and walked into the room, receiving another blow to his pride in the form of a wrinkled and dirty neckcloth.

Tharkay had discovered it in the evening after he had set out to return to the Pamir mountains in hope of recruiting more of the feral dragons. Granted, it had been clean then and at first Tharkay had thought Laurence had stuffed it into his package because he expected Tharkay to wear it. But then the cold air had revealed the smell of the ocean, the peculiar odour of a dragon’s hide and gunpowder and Tharkay’s heart had leapt at the realization that Laurence had scented it for him. Something he had never expected the other man to do. 

He remembered regretting not having presented Laurence with a similar token. By now he considered it as some kind of personal failure.

He picked it up, balling it in his fist before falling onto the bed. Fully dressed, dirty boots resting atop the blanket. Laurence would have suffered a heart attack.

He chuckled, finding that an old part of him would have liked him to be annoyed at the amount of time he wasted thinking about Laurence. But for once he did not feel like he was wasting time and while he was sick with worry, he did not regret the path he had chosen by returning to the smell of the sea in the middle of a desert.

Instead, his eyes fixed on the same picture of a yellow reaper he had been staring at while Laurence got dressed on the last morning, they had shared with each other.

“Tenzing, you look like you expect me to walk straight into a firing squad. For once I have five people and just as many dragons worrying about me and Temeraire doing something stupid, you should be pleased to get a vacation from us.”

“You speak as if I have been saving your sorry hide for more than a few months”, he had spared a glance at Laurence then, pleasantly surprised by finding him in his breeches but still in the process of buttoning his shirt.

“Well, I’m sure the amount makes up for the lack of time.”

“That it does.”

“So what is it? Usually, you are brooding and accusing me of being in a gloomy mood. I am no good at brooding so you may as well tell me what is bothering you.”

What had Laurence expected Tharkay to tell him? The truth? That he felt the same way as he had felt when his mother had been dying? And months later as his father suffered the same demise? It would have been a childish answer. Certainly not sufficient to make Laurence reconsider the path he had chosen. 

For Laurence, the world was a simple thing, where a man did what he thought to be righteous. Tharkay had no righteous cause, for the most time he just was, and so he had lied to Laurence.

“It’s nothing really. I’m just wondering if the passes will freeze before I can return with our new draconic recruits. After our last trip through the mountains, I would like to avoid flying under such conditions.”

And Laurence, fully aware that Tharkay was lying to him, had just smiled and nodded, telling him that if anyone could do it, it was Tharkay. 

He was certain that this was one of the main reasons he had fallen for Laurence. The fact that the man would not pry. 

Laurence knew that Tharkay had his secrets, but he was not bothered by them. He would not ask, not if Tharkay did not offer to answer of his own volition. It drove Tharkay mad and had prompted him to rise from the bed and embrace Laurence. An odd scene. His own height perfectly fitted to allow Laurence to rest his chin on the crown of his head, Tharkay’s arms barely sufficient to reach around Laurence bulk.

It should have served to remind him that Laurence wasn’t helpless, even if it wasn’t for the twenty-ton Celestial, who was just as anxious about Laurence’s safety as Tharkay. Instead, Tharkay felt like there wasn’t enough of him to protect Laurence and alas he had been proven right. He had not been enough and wherever Laurence could not return or had chosen not to, there had not even been a letter left for him.

And if it had been any other man, Tharkay might have taken it as a rejection and moved on. But since it was William Laurence, he knew better. Laurence had not expected to return, not to Tharkay at least and that would just not do.

So he kicked off his boots and brushed off the dirt he had left on the sheets, settling into the bed, praying that the morning would come soon, so he may return to his vantage point on the cliffs, staring at the horizon while Granby paced behind him and Iskierka complained about Temeraire’s willfulness.

He settled on his side, staring at the lonely pillow beside him and placed the neckcloth upon it, feeling even lonelier as in all those years of living as a vagabond.

When Laurence and Temeraire left for France they had taken a part of Tharkay with them and he was determined to get it back. Bonaparte and the rest of the world be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break but I suck at updating regularly my creativity is all over the place all the time.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks go to Borrowed_Voices for Beta reading and brainstorming with me and adding half of the "," I have missed. Thanks a lot, my dear <3  
> Also shoutout to the Temeraire server, there are a lot of creative minds buzzing through the channels and we would be happy for you to join us.   
> Discord Link: https://discord.gg/jPMnhHd


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